


Strings and Strokes

by NeoFruity (orphan_account)



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Angst, Artist Hiro, Callaghan is Hiro's adoptive father in this, Drama, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Incest, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Musical Prodigy Tadashi, Sibling Incest, Tadashi Lives, Tadashi lives with cass, This Is STUPID, all aboard the feels train toot toot, but the viewpoint will change from Tadashi to Hiro occasionally, cuz i'm a fucking nerd, don't worry it's written in third person, like in later chapters, really this is oe big roller coaster of feels, smut in later chapter..., they meet in a coffee shop i'M SOO DUMB UGH, this is one of those but focusing on art and music instead of robotics, this whole thing started from a silly au idea i posted on twitter, u know those generic college au's?, what are tags, wow this is like super ooc i'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-16 02:56:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3471821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/NeoFruity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tadashi Hamada has just been accepted to San Fransokyo Institute of Music and Art. In the flurry of college classes and making music he meets Hiro Hamada, a young genius and artist who is also attending SFIMA. </p><p>As glad as Tadashi is to have finally found a friend, he begins to feel so much more for this quirky boy who makes him laugh and smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude: Audition for A Minor

**Author's Note:**

> ahahaha, I'm so sorry for this but I'm so not...? Idk. Thanks HamadaSexual on twitter for giving me the motivation to write this fluff fest.
> 
> Warning, this is unbeta'd and superdy duperdy ooc

Tadashi stood  fidgeting with his cuff of his dress suit. He was hidden backstage of the SFIMA Performing Arts Center, waiting his turn to go on stage. To say he was nervous was a vast understatement, Tadashi was utterly petrified with unease. His heart thrummed uncomfortably inside of his chest, beating so fast it seemed as though it would jump right out of his ribcage. His entire life and career were hinging on the success of his audition. _I have to get into this school. If I don't I'm going to lose my mind._

San Fransokyo Institute of Music and Art, or SFIMA as it was often referred to, was one of the most prestigious technical arts school in the state. It was a school for the wealthy and the talented. The average art student simply seeking a degree was not enough for the school. Gaining Acceptance to the school was nearly impossible for most. But then again, Tadashi was no average student.

From an early age, Tadashi displayed a musical brilliance about him, often tinkering and playing with the piano and guitar his Aunt owned. At the age of 10 Tadashi began cello lessons and quickly excelled, his new found love for the instrument carrying his musical talent to great heights. By the age of 17 Tadashi had mastered piano, violin, cello, guitar, bass guitar, and just about any instrument he could get his hands on, as well as having played with several electronic medias. The joy Tadashi felt when he was creating music filled his soul with the passion to continue, and if Tadashi couldn't gain acceptance to SFIMA to continue his music education, it would surely shatter him.

Tadashi shuffled nervously looking at his reflection on the polished wood floor. He looked neat, having taken great care to prepare for his audition, checking in the mirror nearly six times for any sign of imperfection. he couldn't help but notice his eyes looked slightly dark underneath. Whether it was the scant lighting of the backstage corridor or his numerous all-nighters practicing his sets betraying him to the others around him, he didn't know. He could only hope that the judges wouldn't notice.

Sighing, he took a few steps back to retrieve his cello, resting it upon one of numerous tables scattered around, checking the tuning pegs to make sure they were in position before gently laying it back down again. Usually Tadashi didn't have any trouble lifting the cello, but today it felt heavy in Tadashi's calloused hands. He examined the spruce frame for any signs of damage, any small scratches, nicks or dings in the delicate shining exterior. Tadashi was extremely careful with his precious cargo, taking great care when transporting it to and from destination to destination. It had been a gift from his beloved aunt,  and it was the very least he could do to show his gratitude for such an expensive treasure.

Hearing a silence and then seeing the previous auditionee exit the stage in a swift manner, Tadashi stiffened and waited for his number to be called.

"Candidate number 57, Hamada Tadashi, Hamada Tadashi." a voice proclaimed through the loud speakers in auditorium. His name reverberated off the walls, eventually settling along with the chill in his spine. Taking a deep breath, he gently picked up the cello and bow, walking delicately along the gleaming hardwood floor as though it were made of glass.

He strode to the center of the stage, stopping and holding his cello and bow on either side so he could respectfully bow to the judges seated before him. There was a middle aged woman with shoulder length brown hair and brown eyes, a fair haired man with piercing blue eyes and a sharp triangular nose, and older middle aged man, also with blue eyes. Tadashi recognized him immediately as Robert Callaghan, one of the professors of SFIMA and world renowned musician.

The fair haired man spoke up first, clearing his throat before speaking. "Mr. Hamada, what will you be playing for us today?" Tadashi was slightly thrown off by the question even though he'd practiced this moment a hundred thousand times before in his head. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

Tadashi drew in a deep breath, exhaling before replying to the man's inquiry. "An original song, sir, I wrote," He noticed Callaghan's eyebrow quirk upwards in interest, likely because not many students auditioned with an original piece. It was difficult to do so because of how tight the requirements were for original pieces, but Tadashi had breezed through them as though they were beginner level techniques.

"Very well, you may proceed."

He waited for the nod of approval before striding to the seat behind him and positioning the cello against his chest and between his thighs, his fingers taking their place on the silver strings. His bow hovered a moment before he began.

A wave of calm washed over Tadashi as he began playing. In his mind he washed out the judges, his fellow competitors, everyone else around him, concentrating solely on playing. His fingers moved rapidly and expertly along the curved wood of the neck, crafting his tune carefully and precisely. The rich sound of the cello filled the room, bouncing off the ornate ceiling and settling in the air around him.

The melody began rather fast show off Tadashi’s speed and agility, eventually depressing and growing slower to showcase his patience and control in playing the large apparatus. The rhythm of the song eventually picked up again, almost as though there was a beat constant with the ins and outs of the song. Tadashi’s head began to nod in accordance with the song, feeling the rhythm and the depth in his core.

All too soon the end of the song drew near. Tadashi continued through, finish slow steady. When at last the strings quivering came slow halt there was only silence. The auditorium, being empty as it was seemed emptier still with the lack of melody to fill its space and no audience to appreciate or applaud Tadashi’s plight. The judges looked just as expressionless as when Tadashi began, causing a slight fear to creep into the pit of his stomach. _They weren’t impressed at all,_ Tadashi heard the voice in the back of his head whisper. Sure, Tadashi had talent, but was it _enough._

Tadashi was snapped out his thoughts by the fair haired judge addressing him. “Thank you Mr. Hamada, you are dismissed.” Was all he said before lowering his head to scribble something down on a sheet of paper. Tadashi rose swiftly before bowing once more and exiting the stage. Slowly and carefully he packed his cello, taking care to place it gently in the case before sealing it shut. As Tadashi exited the building he his thoughts wandered to the judges lack of response. Perhaps they had expected him to play something faster, more exciting or just cover a classical piece as so many students before him had done. Tadashi knew the judges would be sort of stone faced but he hadn’t expected nothing at all. Not even a nod of approval or even a blink of fascination. Professor Callaghan had seemed to have been fascinated at first, so that was something he supposed. _Perhaps I’m thinking about this too much. I did my best, and that’s what matters._

Tadashi made his way through the heavy wooden doors and out to the parking lot where his aunt awaited him. She beamed brightly at him as he got into the car, placing the cello in between his legs carefully and pulling his seatbelt on. “Hey Aunt Cass.” He said, turning to face her.

“Well honey, how’d you do? Did it go well? When will we know the results? Oh I'm just so proud of you right now, you know that?” she chattered away happily, blissfully proud of her nephew having the courage to pursue his dreams. He smiled wearily at her, his audition having nearly depleted him of all of his mental energy. 

"I think we receive the results in a few weeks... that is if I got in. I don't know if the judges liked my piece or not. I couldn't tell very well, but they didn't seem to be very impressed." he confided. Truth be told, Tadashi didn't think he had as much talent as everyone said he did.

"Oh, I'm sure they're just dying to enroll you by now. You were born for this, don't forget that." she leaned over, planting an affectionate kiss on his head. "Now let's get you home, I'm sure you're starving, I know I am. " and with that, they left the parking lot.

Tadashi found himself staring out the windows, watching the Tall buildings pass him by. He loved the ride into the city, especially when he was listening to a melody he was particularly fond of. He felt like the world around him was surreal and lit up, fantastic colors exploding across his vision. The gentle rock of the old car's carriage combined with piano twinkling happily through the car's radio soon lulled him to sleep. He drifted in out against the window of the car, catching glimpses of the inner city district of San Fransokyo.

San Fransokyo was a cultural clutter of sorts, where the east met the west in a display of vibrant colors, languages, and customs. Tadashi was himself of mixed ancestry, being both Japanese and Caucasian. He was always fascinated with the way the city melted together, how lively and active it seemed. Being set on a peninsula, it was also trading and industrial hub, as well as being one of the biggest cultural melting pots in the country. Many came here to pursue careers in engineering, robotics, science, business, music, film, and art. Though few broke through and made it to the top, they were still content in their education, and often opened small businesses for themselves. That was what Aunt Cass had done in her early years, and she now ran a very successful cafe in the midst of the city. Tadashi smiled, thinking of his aunt running to and fro in the cafe, zipping about with fresh Japanese and European baked goods, bustling around with trays so crammed with drinks Tadashi was surprised they didn't topple. Yes, he was quite lucky to live here, he thought.

Soon enough they arrived at the cafe, which had closed early for the evening. Tadashi exited the cab with a wobbly thud on the ground, shaking the lulling clouds of fatigue in his head away.

"Alright, now you go change out of that suit before you get something on it, I'd hate for you to ruin your concert clothing," Aunt Cass prodded him. "I'll have dinner ready soon." Tadashi nodded wearily, going up the stairs quietly. Entering his attic room, he sighed contentedly. He placed his cello in its designated corner, pausing for a moment to make sure it didn't topple. Making his way to the closet, he took off his jacket and hung it up, carefully swiping at the black fabric to remove any dust and fuzzies. He removed his bow tie, savoring the moment when he could finally just breathe without his dress suit restricting him. He quickly changed into black jeans and a white t-shirt, shrugging on a soft, faded grey cardigan, and finally placing his worn baseball cap on his head.

Crossing the room he glanced out the window, noticing it was nearly dusk, the sun had grown heavy, sinking slowly beyond the horizon. The streetlamps were beginning to light, small shops and stores were illuminating the strings of paper lanterns that hung from the shop windows. A few people still milled around on the sidewalks, probably on their way home to their own families and homes.

Tadashi was startled by a loud meow and the feeling of soft fur brushing past his leg. Mochi, his aunt's cat stared pleadingly up at him, begging for attention. Tadashi smiled, kneeling to pet the fat animal that purred contentedly against the palm of his hand.

Eventually Tadashi stood to go fiddle with his computer, where he'd started exporting the master mp3 to his newest song. He'd recorded himself playing different parts of a song he'd written for a quartet, and had finally found the time to edit them and put them together. He hummed impatiently as the computer chugged along, barely keeping up with his commands. Perhaps it was time for him invest in a new desktop, he'd been using his current model for a little over 4 years, and even then he'd bought it used, not wishing to stress his aunts bank account anymore than he did already. Audio and video editing programs didn't come cheap, neither did his electronic equipment. He usually paid for most of it with his own money, working in the cafe from early hours to late nights, and even though his aunt said she would be willing to just buy the equipment for him, he'd insisted, saying he couldn't take advantage of her like that.

As the night drew on, Tadashi couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness. His life was lacking in something, but he didn't know what. Sitting perplexed as a video rendered he let his mind wander back to that empty feeling. It bothered him, he didn't like feeling like he was missing something. Especially when he had so much already. Perhaps he was just tired. He had college to look forward to, even if SFIMA didn't accept him, there were still several colleges he'd applied to that readily accepted him, some offering partial tuition, a few offering full rides. He hadn't been rejected from a single college so far, something, his aunt had told him, that doesn't happen very often.

Then it finally hit him: he was _lonely._ He didn't have many friends he hung out with, in fact he really didn't have friends at all. People didn't really like him all that much after they found out just how smart and talented he really was. Graduating high school at the age of 16, Tadashi was well ahead of his peers, and this in turn caused them to become quite jealous, shunning and excluding him from their lives. It hadn't really bothered Tadashi until recently. Before he was perfectly content just doodle in the margins of his notebooks during lunch break or fade away into his music whilst reviewing his school work. Then he graduated, and started spending most of his time working in the cafe or with his work, down his little makeshift garage recording studio. He didn't bother to concentrate on what he was feeling, rather, he focused on helping Aunt Cass and preparing himself for college. He was now 18, and he didn't have a friend to call his own.

Tadashi sighed glancing at his clock, _11:53 p.m._ glaring back in garish neon blue LED lighting. It was time for him to sleep, he knew it. Staying up this late wasn't going to fix his small desire for human contact. He rubbed his eyes before shutting down the computer and dragging himself to his bed. He didn't bother to change into his pajamas, instead just dropping to the mattress and cocooning himself in his comforter. Lazily he lifted a finger to his pillow, tracing the faint white pin stripes that adorned the light blue cover.

 _I need to change my habits. It's not healthy for me to be inside without so much as a friend to socialize with every now and then._ After a while He looked at the clock across the room proudly displaying _12:24 a.m._ back at him. It was going to be a restless night of tossing and turning, unable to dream of his future or his past. His final thoughts before he drifted into unconsciousness were _where am I going with my life?_ The answerless question plagued him for weeks thereafter.


	2. A Sketchy Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiro's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk what i'm doing
> 
> fite me
> 
> nah jk, I know a whole lot more about art than I do about music so, at least i do know what of their subjects somewhat better than the other. 
> 
> Um, I'll draw for this soon... probably next week bc that's spring break. 
> 
> thanks to all the people that spotted errors in the last chapter i am eXTREMELY grateful, wow that was kind of embarrassing, it was all stuff that if I had been thinking properly i wouldn't have written it. 
> 
> what is logic
> 
> anyway enjoy
> 
> EDIT-THERE WERE A LOT OF GRAMATICAL ERRORS I MISSED, I APOLOGIZE I AM WRITING THIS ON A SHITTY TABLET SO SORRY ILL LOOK BEFORE I POST NEXT TIME

It was an incredibly boring day, one of those days where Hiro could barely drag himself out of bed, let alone muster the energy to do anything productive. He knew if he stayed put he would get absolutely nothing done, electing instead to stay on the internet all day, snuggled up in a pile of blankets in the corner of his bed. No, he couldn’t do that, time was not something he could afford to lose, not now anyway.

Slowly pulling himself from a bird’s of comforters and sheets he got up and stretched, his hips popping protest. His bare feet padded across the cold wood of his studio apartment, wandering to his small closet in search of something to wear. He finally settled on a worn pair of black jeans and a dark grey hoodie. Padding over to the mirror Hiro looked his reflection, bitterly squinting at the offensive image the glass returned. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, his shaggy uncombed mop of hair stuck out in all directions. Hiro sighed, taking a brush and began to pull his hair back.

“You’re just never gonna look presentable, are you?” he said, smirking at the reflection. With that, he hair he had gathered up with a hair tie, effectively, if not haphazardly, securing most of his hair on the back of his skull. He captured the remaining wisps with an array of bobby pins and barrettes. Before quickly brushing his teeth and returning to his bed to put on his shoes.

 _Now, where can I go and actually get some work done?_ He pondered for moment, thoughtfully lacing up his ratty high tops with precision. He picked up his glasses adjusting the square frames on his face,changing his vision only slightly. He stared at his sketchbook and the stack of vine charcoal that accompanied it. He really didn’t want to deal with charcoal, it was messy, dirty, and the brittle burned plant felt weird against his skin, making them feel dried out and numb at the tips. The only place he really could go was the coffee shop down near the university. Although he didn’t have a class today, the classrooms were still open until 5:00 pm, and if he finished today he could drop of the sketches and not have to worry about them for a couple more days. It seemed like the most logical plan, and he got a nice coffee out of it, he didn’t treat himself to that very often.

It was a drizzly day in San Fransokyo, devoid of its usual hustle and bustle. Pedestrians wandered the streets in rain jackets and umbrellas, hurrying to their fixed destination in an effort to escape the slow falling rain. Hiro pulled his hoodie over his eyes and set his music to a deep constant beat. And soon he was sailing down the sidewalks, the thin board beneath him supporting his weight has he glided along the sidewalks.

For Hiro, longboarding was the only logical way to get around. He absolutely refused to use public transportation, and he was far too lazy to walk the distance from his apartment to the college and back. He’d tried out Fred’s own longboard and found it quite to his liking. Eventually he purchased one himself and hadn’t stopped using it since. He was quite sure he looked like some species of grumpy hipster, one that had woken up late and needed to get his damn work done.

Eventually, his destination came in sight and Hiro, who was highly energized from his ride through the college district, was ready to sit down and get his projects sorted out and finished. A bell dinged upon Hiro’s entry, and he was hit with scent of coffee beans and caramel. The coffee shop was quite unique if not exceedingly hipster in style. Mismatched sofas, chairs and tables occupied the worn hard wood floor. Instead of drywall or ceiling tile, the ceiling was entirely composed of burlap coffee sacks, advertising their once precious cargo, come all the way from Guatemala. It wasn’t super busy, however it was very cramped so it was difficult to navigate without bumping into chairs, but somehow he managed.

“Hiro! My man, how yah be?” Hiro glanced at the bar and found an excited blonde waving comically at him.

“Hi, Fred, I’m super tired and I have shit ton of work to do. Can you hook me up the, um, you know,” Hiro’s eyes flicked toward the cappuccino machine and back. “The _stuff._ ” 

Fred gave Hiro a knowing smile and pointed at him. “You got it chief, one extra black coffee coming right up!” Hiro grimaced, knowing full well that Fred was messing with him.

“Fred, I know you know what I usually get. Now can you me a favor and make the damn thing?” Hiro was a little flustered, mostly because he didn’t to just straight up order what he really wanted. No way he was committing social suicide like that.

“Hiro, can I let you in on a little secret?” he leaned closer, motioning for Hiro to do likewise. “No one gives a shit if your order a caramel Frappuccino with caramel lacing!” The sudden burst from Fred sent Hiro lunging backwards.

“Dude, not so loud!” Hiro looked nervously around the café, but no one appeared to be paying any attention.

“Bro chillax, I got you covered.” And with that, Fred set about fixing his order. Hiro grimaced and watched Fred making his drink, he really hated admitting what he liked to drink but in all honesty Hiro couldn’t stand plain coffee. It was bitter and disgusting, and left him crashing hard after so many hours.

“So,” Fred called from across the coffee bar. “Are you gonna be able to make it to the party this weekend?” Hiro gazed down at the floor. As fun as Fred’s parties were, Hiro didn’t really like the rowdy social crowd. A few people were fine, but large parties left Hiro exhausted. If anything, he only went to get drunk and forget about his lack of social life. Ah, yes there was that too, he didn’t really mingle. Conversations were awkward and tiresome to carry on. He usually ended up sitting in the corner, downing expensive various alcoholic beverages, playing the part of an average wallflower. Fred had tried to hook him up with a few people before, but he usually perceived them to be shallow, attention seeking, and just downright boring.

“I don’t know. I don’t really have anybody to chill with, I mean, since you’re busy hosting and stuff.”

Fred gave him a rather incredulous look, snorting as he did so. “If you can’t find anybody, then bring someone. Anyone. You don’t even have to know the person that well. If worst comes to worst, you two can be loners together.”

“Gee thanks, Fred, that makes me feel _so_ much better.”

“Hey man, I’m being serious. And if you still don’t enjoy it, then you can head out early and I won’t try to stop you. Hell, I’ll even have Heathcliff make you a cooler to take home.” He took the blender he was using and forced it down on a stream of water, rinsing it quickly before puting it up and continuing with Hiro’s order.

“I dunno man. We’ll see.” Hiro was anxious to drop the subject. He didn’t really need to get drunk this weekend. Midterms were in a couple of weeks. He needed to study. Perhaps a couple drinks wouldn’t hurt, it might take his mind off of school and other things.

“Well, the invitation still stands, so I hope I see you there.” Fred said, handing Hiro his drink. Hiro nodded, thanking him before turning to find a seat. He glanced around the café, taking in the scene, looking for a comfortable place to sit and work without being disturbed. There was an empty wooden table in the center of the café, two wooden chairs neatly pushed under it. Quickly claiming it before anyone else could he set his tightly bundled sketchpad down and began unwrapping it, the crisp paper safe underneath the plastic bag he’d wrapped it in.

Fred was off helping a tall boy with dark hair at the register. Hiro smiled, bringing the straw to his lips, savoring the blend of silky caramel combined with the bitter bite of coffee. Returning to his table, he jammed in his earbuds, and began sketching a new figure drawing.

He’d only been working about five minutes when he felt someone staring intensely over his shoulder, and if there was one thing Hiro could not stand it was people he didn’t know watching him while he was trying to work. Hiro whipped his head around and was about to tell the person behind him to scram when he was stopped short by the most intense pair of amber eyes staring back at him.

“Oh uh, sorry, um… I was, um, I was just watching you draw.” The poor kid stammered out. He looked incredibly flustered and slightly guilty. “You’re um… you’re pretty good.” He added, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. The dude looked harmless for the most part, although he was much taller had more muscle, He carried a gentle persona about him, and all honesty, was quite charming. He was wearing a green blazer and a grey cardigan, with a t-shirt displaying San Fransokyo’s minor league baseball team, the San Fransokyo Ninjas. His burnt umber jeans where folded up at the base and hugged his strong legs gently, and his whole hipstery nerd aesthetic was completed with a pair of vintage mint green converse. He held what Hiro speculated to be violin case. _He must be music major of sorts. Certainly looks the type._

Hiro snorted at him turning his nose away in disgust. Probably just another person wanting free work from him. It happened all the time, and Hiro always said no. Artwork was just that, _work._ If he was gonna draw or paint for someone he expected something in return.

“Whatever dude, but I don’t do free work if that’s what you’re after.” Hiro turned back to his charcoal drawing and resumed his mark making, dismissing the boy behind him entirely. He heard the chair in front of him screech against the old timber floor and someone sit down in front him. Glancing up he saw the raven haired boy staring back at him expectantly.

“Can I help you?!” Hiro sad quite sharply. Just who the fuck did this kid think he was, there were plenty of other chairs around the café and he choose to sit at his table? Unbelievable.

“Well, if it’s not too weird, I kind of want to watch you draw. I have a few minutes before the practice rooms at SFIMA open, so I don’t have anything else to do right now.” He smiled sweetly, his eyes shining sincerely.

“I guess, just don’t bother me with stupid questions and stuff.” Hiro shook his head, ignoring the boy’s hum of agreement. It was a few minutes before the stranger in front of him spoke again.

“So are you an art student?” The kid was really beginning to piss Hiro off.

“What the hell did I just say?”

“Sorry, I meant ‘are you an art student _at SFIMA_?’” he smiled sheepishly once more at his mistake. The dude wasn‘t trying to be a bother, but he was. His question was honest enough though, so Hiro just sighed before replying.

“I’m a Studio Arts major with a minor in Illustration, now can I please get back to work?” He tapped his foot impatiently, looking at the kid in annoyance.

“I uh… yeah sorry.” He blushed a brilliant shade of red, looking down at the table briefly. Hiro rolled his eyes and returned to his drawing. He couldn’t even remember what he was doing last, so he merely shifted paper guarding his paper from being smudged by the palm of his hand and began to work exclusively on the face.

He’d been drawing a portrait of an old dude he’d snuck a picture of at the café last week. He liked the wrinkles in the man’s aged skin, and thought it would make a great addition to his series of portraits. So far the image was coming out great, but it was nowhere near what Hiro wanted it to be. It lacked contrast and value, but there was only so much one could do with charcoal. Hiro continued to work, scowling at the godforsaken image miserably.

“Tadashi.” Hiro jumped like a gun had just went off.

“What?!” He was about ready to tell this dude to fuck off already.

“My name is Tadashi. I didn’t tell you, and I thought you might like to know.” He was smiling gently again, looking at Hiro softly.

“Good for you. I’m Hiro Takachiho, and I’m trying to finish my stupid assignment. Evidently that’s not going to happen, because the weirdo in front of me keeps fucking talking.” He’d finally snapped, as soon as he said it though he almost felt guilty. This Tadashi kid’s eyes widened as he leaned back slightly.

“I’m so sorry, I’m not trying to be a pest but, I just- You draw really well, and you seem really cool and I just wanted to talk to you, I’m really sorry.” He rubbed his eyes with his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m so stupid, I should’ve known you didn’t want to be bothered. Here, I’ll leave.” He slowly rose and was about to turn when Hiro grabbed his wrist. His skin was warm and soft, radiating energy and heat.

“Wait, sit back down,” Hiro knew he was going to regret this the next morning but hey, what was one more all-nighter. Hiro closed his sketchbook, wrapping it up in its protective plastic once more before turning back to Tadashi. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, I’m just kind of in a funk this morning. What’s your major at the school?” It had been a while since he socialized with anyone, and what was the harm in doing so.

“Well I haven’t really decided yet, I’m just kind of meeting my requirements for now before I decide what my set major is.” He smiled thoughtfully, His jaw resting in the palm of his hand.

“Oh I see…” Hiro struggled, looking for a topic to keep the conversation flowing. His eyes caught sight of Tadashi’s red case, gleaming under the café’s yellow studio lights. “What’s in your case there?” Hiro nodded towards the crimson receptacle.

“Oh yeah, that’s my electric violin. I was going to go practice at the school, but the practice rooms don’t open for another twenty minutes or so.” He sighed, looking longingly at his instrument. “I would practice in the dorm, but my roommate really doesn’t like noise while he’s trying to study.”

“So, fuck him. It’s your space too, practice wherever the hell you want.” Hiro leaned back, taking sip of his coffee while balancing on two chair legs.

“Haha, I honestly did think about that but then I thought ‘it’s really no big deal, plus, I can get some exercise walking across the campus.’” He paused to take a sip of his own drink, before continuing. “My roommates a cool dude anyway, He just has his some preferences. What’s your favorite art medium to work in?” The sudden change in subject caught Hiro a little off guard.

“Uh… paints I guess? I dunno, just whatever I feel like working in. It’s usually oil or acrylic.”

“Cool. Can I see some of your stuff?” he pointed at Hiro’s worn sketchbook, curious of the contents that might be inside.

“I guess but there’s some nude stuff in there from figure drawing class, so don’t like freak out.” Hiro reluctantly handed over his precious sketchbook, taking care to open it without smudging the work inside. He watched Tadashi scan over the artworks carefully, waiting for some kind of response. “They’re not that good to begin with so…”

“Are you kidding me?” Tadashi looked back at Hiro with wide eyes full of interest. “These are incredible. I’ve never seen charcoal used the way you use it. The marksmanship and the contrast are beautiful!” he went back to looking at the drawings, gingerly turning each page with fervor.

Hiro blushed, looking to the floor. He didn’t like to be complimented so heavily on his work, mostly because he didn’t know how to respond. “Thanks…” he mumbled. He gathered the courage to peak at Tadashi once more, smiling at his gaze full of childlike wonder.

Hiro adjusted the straw in his drink, mixing it lazily in contentment. Yep, this Tadashi kid would be alright. He’d make a nice friend if anything.

Tadashi set the sketchbook down in front of Hiro pointing at an unfinished drawing of a female model. Pointing to the right side of her partial face he spoke. “Where’s her other eye?”

Hiro squinted at Tadashi unsure if he was serious or not. A sly grin spread across Tadashi’s face and he began to laugh.

“You piece of shit motherfucker, I thought you were serious for a second.” Hiro couldn’t resist releasing a small giggle himself. An awkward silence fell between the two, it was nearly deafening and Hiro couldn’t bear it. Scrambling in his mind in search of a topic, he brought up the first thing that came to mind.

“Look – so there’s like this um, party that my friend is having… and um…. Well you seem like a really chill dude. So uh,” Hiro cleared his throat before continuing. “Do you maybe wanna go…?” Hiro held his breath and leaned back, waiting for an answer. Tadashi seemed to ponder the request for a moment.

“When is it? I might be able to go.” He smiled, warmth spreading across his soft face. “It sounds like fun.”

“Uh… Friday I think. He usually likes to RSVP ahead of time so he has enough food and stuff for all the guests.” Hiro’s foot began to bounce impatiently. He was already way out of his comfort zone, and he was about ready to kill the whole deal.

“Sure, why not? It could be fun. Is it like a formal event or something?” Hiro furiously shook his head. This wasn’t a date or anything, nope. Just two dudes being bros and going to a ridiculously crazy party. Besides, he didn’t even know if this kid was gay or whatever. If he was, all the more power to him, but Hiro most certainly wasn’t asking him out.

“No no no, it’s pretty casual, you just go wearing whatever, and it’s pretty chill. People usually go to get pretty trashed, it’s like a frat party in upscale San Fransokyo. It gets pretty crazy. It’s not like a date thing or anything, that’d be weird.” Hiro shifted awkwardly, wondering if perhaps it wasn’t the right thing to say.

“Ah, I see. Where is it? Or do you want me to meet you somewhere or…?” he trailed off unsure of the plans that were unfolding.

“Um, here let me see your phone…” Tadashi pulled out an old iPhone and handed it to Hiro. He smirked at the old piece of technology, even in this day and age, it wasn’t expensive to update and people were constantly doing so.

Carefully he slid the lock screen to the right, watching a picture of an overly fat calico cat disappear to reveal a limited selection of apps that weren’t already available on the small device. He quickly located the Contact list, adding his number and name with a fair amount of silly emoji. Quickly closing the app and relocking the phone he handed it back to Tadashi who set it down gently on the table.

"I guess I should give you mine now that I have yours." Tadashi pointed out. Hiro pulled out his own phone, unlocked it and handed it over to Tadashi who in turn gave him his number. He quickly locked the phone, handing it back to Hiro as he smiled. "Cool. I guess you can contact me whenever."

"Yeah, I'll make sure to do that..." Hiro awkwardly laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck. He could feel the heavy atmosphere beginning to settle once more, only unnerving him further. Before he could even flounder for a topic to talk about Tadashi's phone went off, signaling with a tinkle of chimes and marimbas.

"Oh, sorry, that's my alarm for practice, I need to be heading out now." He stood, looking genuinely sad. "I'll catch up with you later, yeah?" Hiro nodded, standing and extending his hand. Tadashi took it, shaking it firmly before bending to pick up his violin.

"See you around... I guess." Hiro watched as Tadashi turned to the exit, weaving his way around the tables.

"See yah!" He turned his head and waved, the tinkle of chimes signaling his leave. Hiro continued to stare at the door a moment before gathering his things and hurrying home to his apartment. It was going to be a long week and Friday would not come fast enough  for the young artist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you squint you can see the gay

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer, I don't know jack diddly squat about music or how it works or terminology or aNY THING But I did do some research so I tried. Don't hurt me. 
> 
> please let me know if something is inaccurate so i can fix it. 
> 
>  
> 
> also yeah the first chapter's name was a pun, bite me
> 
> Hiro and Tadashi will meet in the next chapter


End file.
